


a partnership between lovers

by SearchingforSerendipity



Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types, Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare, SHAKESPEARE William - Works
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, I'm which Romeo and Juliet live and are William shakeaspeare, ghost writers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 02:39:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7600261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SearchingforSerendipity/pseuds/SearchingforSerendipity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Romeo and Juliet, the young lovers that rock Verona to the ground. They die, or they do not.  Say they live. Say they end up dealing with the repercussions of their secret wedding even years after. Miscommunication of a lesser degree ends up with them stealing away in the middle of the night.</p><p>What happens after tragedy?</p><p>The answer, of course, is life."</p>
            </blockquote>





	a partnership between lovers

**Author's Note:**

> This used to be a tumblr thing. It's now an ao3 thing.

 

 

Romeo and Juliet, the young lovers that rock Verona to the ground. They die, or they do not. Regardless, blood is split. There is betrayal, and midnight devotion, and a church dark with secrecy. Say they live. Say they end up dealing with the repercussions of their secret wedding even years after. Miscommunication of a lesser degree ends up with them stealing away in the middle of the night, and if their families unite in the search for their children, well, they are too far away to care. They run. They are scared and young and in love, so they run.

What happens after tragedy?

The answer, of course, is life.

 

They move from place to place for the first months, always worried they will be found. But winter comes and they end up settling in a country village. The innkeeper is very clear on her expectations of payment, so for the first time they have to get jobs. It’s exhausting and wild and nothing like they expected – Romeo’s first attempt at chopping wood goes hilariously badly, Juliet has to ask for help to knit a blanket for winter – but it’s theirs. Love at first sight is all fine and dandy, but it’s only now that they really get to know each other. Poverty is as good as time as any.

You think it’s easy? These kids were spoiled rotten. They learn to make ends meet with second hand everything and scraps. They have to. Romeo has to use arithmetic not for ancient problems, but to calculate if they could afford one more loaf of bread. Usually they couldn’t. Juliet, though, she’s the one who always gets up earlier in the morning, squints sewing by the candlelight till late at night long after he’s snoring. She's he backbone and the broken-nails of their humble abode, and he loved her, even when she's annoying, even when she's so much better than him.

Romeo turns cold, hollow-boned, all his anger burned out. His mind turns into a sharp jaded instrument. Juliet shimmers, helplessly indignant at the unwelcoming world. Even in hiding she carved herself a place, refuses to cower and slink away like she was guilty of anything. Her passion is a caged unwavering thing. It does not allow her to be anything but right.

The only luxury they end up not giving up is going to the theater. They were not the only ones that chose these place for winter. A passing circus is in town, and if the juggler is not very good and the acrobats are drunk more oft then not, the theater is always a treat. The colorful vests are not as grand as they used to bet at Verona, but the children’s shrieking and the gasps of the audience was so much more genuine.

Only, the plays are all the same, aren’t they? Folklore tales, some satire, some religious tales, nothing original. And one time the leading actor falls ill, there’s panic, and Romeo, who used to stage plays with Mercutio and his cousins, ends up roped into playing. It’s a resounding success. That night the circus leader invites Romeo and Juliet to their camp. In the morning, heads pounding, they sign a contract for the next year.

They come together after their first show, panting among the puffed dresses, and somewhere between laughing kisses they agree, this is a path that could be their.

Romeo continues acting, but Juliet is pickier. Her embroidering skills make her a good seamstress, under her care the garments become flashier and dreamier, but none of it fills her expectations. Soon she starts a routine of bickering with the writers, suggesting twists and correcting dialogue. Her ideas are bold, her tongue silver, and she has a way of turning disasters into opportunist that makes men listen.

At night, they curl up in their damp corner of the tent, breaths mingling in white clouds while snow gathered outside and spoke of far away kingdoms, fairy spells and he despair that turns love to madness. The children of Montage and Capulet know all that is to know about family secrets, the kind that burns green and bitter on the tongue, sticks to your fingers like blood.

When food runs short the circus master hordes the best morsels to himself they sit together with stomach’s rumbling in harmony. Romeo unbraids Juliet’s hair, she sews a new hem for a roman toga, and they talk.

 

"Do we have coin for more parchment?"

"Did you see Raphael? That waistcoat fitted him like a glove. One of my best works."

"Can you help me rehearse? After this line I keep stumbling on the rhymes."

"Do you regret it?"

"Do you miss them?"

"Do you love me still?"

"Do you know a good story?"

"I know many, but not a one fit for tonight. What if we make one together?"

"Why now?"

"Why not?"

 

Ophelia is Juliet’s creation, her reflection in the river during a starry night, sad Brutus who only tried his best. She was always so good at history. Hamlet is all Romeo, Horatio a tribute and a lark. A Midsummer’s Dream was their shared creation, the first child of their mind. English kings take shape from the stories of Lady Capulet, the golden haired girl who came to Verona from York and taught her children the value of roses and ravens.

And always, they had to lie, lie about names - Ricardo and Porcia, simple peasants. Their children, for a love like theirs if oft fruitful, will not be named for the dead or the far away, but are bestow ever with names of their own. If they are ever found grieving when Juliet grows fat with child and Romeo thin with nerves, then they had to say it was because of dead families, and the truth of it hurts the most.

William Shakespeare wouldn’t have to lie. William Shakespeare, swaggering Briton with an earring and black black eyes, he would be able to publish a myriad of stories without worrying about fleeing from the law. Really, it’s baffling how much a name in the front of a manuscript can hide.

Parents aren’t supposed to have favorite children, but William, well, he’s their darling.

 

And then, after, later, when Romeo's voice turns hoarse from so many plays and Juliet's hands have calluses from quills and needles, perhaps they might decide to weave an old tale. They will be lords of their own company, wise and knowledgeable, with the words of many languages crowding in their tongues.The tragedy of two star-crossed lovers, feuding families, is always a sure success with the audience.

How does it go again? " _Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay our scene--_ "


End file.
